


Day One (When Two People Fall in Love)

by y02mustang



Series: Supercorp Week 2017 [1]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/F, SuperCorp Week, but there will be smut, lots of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-12-18 00:18:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11862684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/y02mustang/pseuds/y02mustang
Summary: My fics for Supercorp Week 2017.





	Day One (When Two People Fall in Love)

**Author's Note:**

> Day 1 Prompt: When they first realize they have feelings for each other
> 
> I realize I took this as "when they first knew they were in love". Oops.
> 
> Inspired by djchika's beautiful Catco magazine manip (http://djchika.tumblr.com/post/164107812072/lena-luthor-and-kara-danvers-in-thea-queen-wedding) and ProfessorSpark's "Her Brother's Keeper" fic (http://archiveofourown.org/works/9313268/chapters/21107888).

When Two People Fall In Love  
By: James Olsen

Let it be known up front that I am not a professional reporter. My place has always been behind the camera, providing images to accompany the words of far better writers than I. However, at the request of one of my best friends, I have agreed to perform the interviews for and fully write this article. 

\-----

It's four on Friday afternoon and I knock once, waiting only a few seconds for the door of an apartment to open. I am immediately invited in. The apartment is warm and welcoming, with touches of turquoise amidst slate-grey and a vase of sunflowers visible on the kitchen island next to a bowl of fruit. The apartment belongs to one Alex Danvers but it is her sister that answers the door.

Kara Danvers is one of those talented writers I spoke of earlier. We’ve been friends since I first moved to National City almost four years ago and it has been a joy to watch her go from Cat Grant’s assistant to a stellar reporter. 

Today, she laughs at my notepad and pen, greets me with a hug, and gestures to the living room. “Is it okay if we sit here?”

“Wherever you want, Kara.”

“This is your article.”

“Living room is fine,” I decide, because I know she’ll start offering a dozen suggestions if she thinks I'm uncomfortable. I sit in the teal kendall chair and though the fireplace to my left is quiet, it adds a comfort to the room. 

Kara is wearing dark jeans and a beige cotton long-sleeved shirt, though the sleeves are pushed up to her elbows. Her hair is back in a loose braid. “Do you want anything to drink? Coffee? Water? Hot chocolate?” She begins to walk toward the kitchen to prepare whatever drink I request.

It's mid-August and National City is still well within the throes of summer, but Kara Danvers can and will drink hot chocolate at any time. “I'm fine, thanks.” 

Kara sinks into the grey sofa with a brilliant smile. She seems excited to be on the other side of an interview. “What's my first question?”

I ask her a few off the bat, like what she’s wearing on her wedding day, who all is in the wedding party, details about the venue, and she cuts me off, grinning, without answering any of them. 

“Did Snapper give you those?” 

She’s referring to Snapper Carr, Catco’s senior reporter. He’s also her boss and mine, in this endeavor, at least.

“Maybe.”

“He’s been trying to get that information out of me for the past six weeks,” she laughs. “I don’t want Snapper’s questions, James, I want _yours_!”

I look down at my notepad and cross three more questions off the list. “Your adoptive mother is in town, right?”

Kara smiles broadly. “Yeah, Eliza came in from Midvale on Tuesday. It’s been so great to have her here.”

“Who all will be at the wedding?” This is my question, not Snapper’s.

“Besides Eliza, Alex, obviously,” her sister, “and Maggie,” Alex’s wife, “Winn,” Winn Schott, formerly of Catco’s IT department, another mutual friend of ours, “J’onn,” a family friend, “and a few other close friends.”

“So it’s going to be a small ceremony.”

“Pretty much.”

“No initial plans for a big wedding?”

She shakes her head. For as much of a people person as Kara Danvers is, as much as almost everyone she meets genuinely likes her, she also enjoys her privacy and time away from the crowds. “I don’t need a big wedding. I just want _this one_ , with Lena, whatever form that takes.”

“What’s been the most unexpected thing since you started dating?”

She considers the question briefly. “Unexpected? You mean, besides Lena agreeing to go out with me in the first place?” She chuckles. “I was such a mess when I finally asked her.”

“What happened?” I know this story, but it's a good one, and worth retelling here, on the eve of their wedding. 

“I had been trying to work up the courage for months,” she begins, “and every time I thought I had an opening, something happened. One of us would get a phone call, or Lena would have to run to a meeting, _something_ would always interrupt the moment and then I'd lose my nerve. 

“So after about three weeks of stammering my way through conversations and awkward pauses, she confronted me about it. Said she knew something was wrong and wanted to help. I swear, the words that came out of my mouth were, _what's wrong is that I really want to kiss you but I want to ask you on a date first and I keep trying but I just can't, and it's driving me crazy_.”

“And she said yes?”

“She kissed me. Then she said yes and we went to dinner. Where I promptly spilled wine all over her, shoved my hand through the bread when I tried to sop up the wine from the table, and sent a waiter and his tray flying after I jerked my arm back and almost hit him in the face with my elbow.” She's blushing, even though it's been more than two years. “Luckily I didn't break his nose.” 

She adjusts her glasses. “Lena calmly paid the bill, with a tip large enough to cover the waiter’s medical bills if he had any, took my hand, and led us out of the restaurant. We drove back to her place so she could change shirts, and it was silent the entire drive, and I spent the whole time thinking how I couldn't even give her one nice date, why would she ever try for a second?

“She changed clothes and then sat down next to me and reached for my hand, and she said, “I don't want some cliched, perfect date, Kara. I want you. The same as you’ve always been. I don't want you to change just because we’ve started dating.” And it took a little while for that to sink in totally, but Lena was nothing if not patient with me. But, yeah… after that horrible attempt at a first date, much less asking her out in a jumbled mess, I'm so thankful to be marrying her tomorrow.”

“Do you have a honeymoon planned?”

She relaxes visibly, shaking off the remnants of embarrassment. “We’re going somewhere,” she says with a lazy grin. “I actually got Lena to take off a whole week from L-Corp, it's going to be so amazing.”

“Where are you going?”

“You're going to have to find out when we post pictures after we come back.”

They've both been very tight-lipped about details surrounding both the wedding and the honeymoon. Their privacy has been breached often enough that it's unsurprising they want to keep this close to the vest. 

“Has that been hard? The media attention since dating Lena Luthor?”

“I think it’s been more difficult for Lena, honestly. I expected it to be really bad - you know, junior reporter dating the CEO of L-Corp, I was the shiny new thing in the narrative, maybe there would be concerns of my bias in previous articles, and so on. The press had been following Lena for over a year by that point so I figured I would get a lot of attention after our relationship became public.”

“But you didn’t?”

“No. They,” she bites her lip and looks apologetic, “they just focused on Lena even more.” She shrugs, barely lifting one shoulder. “At first, I tried to intercept them if they approached us together, but it didn’t help.”

I remember, now. “You were at DeMarco’s.”

“You’ll have to ask Lena about that.”

And I will. Lena Luthor is the second part of my interview, after all. But I have one question still on my list. 

I lean forward. “When did you first know you were in love with Lena?”

She giggles and pulls her knees up to her chest. “Can I be really cheesy and say the first time I saw her? No? Okay.” 

Her blue eyes grow distant. She chews her bottom lip absently. I wait. When the smile blooms across her face, I know she's found it. 

“Oh, gosh, okay.” She grabs a throw pillow and squeezes it as she speaks; she does this when she's excited so I prepare to take notes. “We’d been dating for about two months and Lena had a terrible day at the office. Investors were grumbling about her plans to open another branch, the board was fighting her on adopting a project she'd been working on for almost a year, and then - boom, the power went out in the middle of an important conference call.”

The blackout of 2018, of course. 

“Terrible, right? I was working on an article at my apartment, it was a Saturday after all, and she left L-Corp when it was clear the power wasn't coming back anytime soon. I expected her to text me and then try her condo first; we were still like eight months from moving in together, remember. 

“So about three in the afternoon, the front door opened,” she waves her hand as if to show the movement, “and she walked in and set her purse on the counter. I stood up and asked her if she was okay. She ranted for a second about everything that had gone wrong. I went to pour her a glass of wine when she put her arms around me, sighed into my shoulder, and said she'd just needed to come home and see me.”

She turns her head and meets my gaze. Her eyes are shining with unshed tears. “That's when I knew I loved her, with all that I am.”

\---

After leaving Alex’s apartment, I call Lena to see if she’s ready for our meeting.

“I’m sorry, I’m afraid I’m still at the office.”

“You _do_ know you’re getting married tomorrow, right?”

She hums into the phone. “Give me fifteen minutes to finish up here.”

Fifteen minutes will easily turn into an hour. I can’t blame her; if my year-long stint as acting CEO for Catco taught me anything, it’s that a CEO’s work is never done, especially for someone as hard-working as Lena. “Should I just meet you at L-Corp?”

She laughs. “Alright. I’m heading out now.” I hear the lid of her laptop click shut. “Meet in forty minutes at my apartment, okay?”

I agree and begin making my way across National City. Though it’s nearing seven-thirty by the time I step into Lena’s building, the sun is still above the horizon, casting long shadows. It’s warm, though there’s a light breeze that feels great.

I hope the weather will be as pleasant for the wedding, wherever it’s being held.

I knock on the door. Nearly a minute passes before it opens and when I step inside, Lena is trying to get her hair to cooperate and stay in the casual bun I think she’s trying for; she finally sighs and leaves it down. 

“Would you like something to drink? I have tea.”

“Tea would be great, thanks.”

She moves to the kitchen and I realize she’s barefoot. Since arriving home, she’s changed out of what was almost certainly a skirt and blouse, with her hair in a tight bun, and into stonewashed jeans and an oversized t-shirt. It’s clear she’s comfortable here and I find myself relaxing in response.

The theme of the apartment is cool and maybe a little dark, but I can see where the deep blues and purples have begun to co-exist with the burnt orange and pale yellows. Kara’s touch. After all, she and Lena have been living together here for over a year.

“Is this some nod to tradition?” I ask, as the kettle begins to boil. 

She glances over her shoulder at me, an eyebrow up in question.

“You and Kara not seeing each other the night before the wedding.”

She laughs. “Not at all. We just decided we wanted to do our interviews separately. She’ll be coming over after we’re done here.”

After she fills two mugs with hot water from the kettle, I open the packet of tea she offers and follow her to the living room. We settle on opposite ends of the couch. The front of her shirt says “Midvale High School” and I chuckle into my cup. 

When she nods to tell me she’s ready, I try to engage my reporter brain. 

I ask the same initial questions, hoping for insight into the wedding party or the venue.

She smirks. “Those are from Snapper Carr, aren’t they?”

“... Yes.”

“He is insufferable. I had lunch with Kara two weeks ago at Catco and he actually tried to make small talk with me, in an attempt to find out _if I’d picked up my dress from the boutique_. As if I’d _accidentally_ give him details about what I was wearing or where I got it from.” She rolls her eyes. “So. No, I won’t answer any of Snapper’s questions.”

When I tell her Kara said the same thing, her eyes brighten and she seems pleased. I glance down at my notepad for another question. 

“How was the planning?”

“Not half as crazy as most weddings, I’d imagine. Jess, my assistant, is amazing and I don’t know what I would do without her. She’s the reason anything I’ve tried to plan has come together as well as it has.”

“Will she be at the wedding?”

“Of course.” A sharp eyebrow raises and I am reminded again of her presence in the boardroom. “Do you honestly think I would have her help me plan one of the most important days of my life and not invite her?”

“No, I mean, of course not.” I clear my throat. “Who else will be there?”

She gives the same list I got from Kara.

I attempt to clarify. “What about for you?”

“Ah. Well, seeing as how all of my immediate family members are either deceased or incarcerated, I’d say that limits my options, doesn’t it?” Green eyes meet mine but her glare only lasts a moment. “Kara’s family and friends have become mine, as well.”

A tilt of her head tells me she includes me in that group. 

I’m not certain she’ll still feel that way after I bumble my way through this interview.

“Is there anything you can tell me about your plans for your honeymoon?”

“Only that I can’t wait. Kara and I so rarely get a single day together without being interrupted by work, having an entire week to ourselves is going to be fantastic.”

“What would you say has been the most unexpected thing since you started dating?”

She thinks on that one for a while, sipping her way through half her cup of tea. “How well we complement each other. She’s much more outgoing whereas the only time I join a crowd is if I’m speaking in front of it. I was a vegan for years and she’s convinced that all vegetables are evil unless they’re breaded and fried.” We both chuckle at the truth of that. “I was worried, at first, that despite the fact that we worked well as friends, in spite of and even because of our differences, that it would just be too much when we dated. I imagined us clashing, arguing about decisions that used to be simple, getting frustrated with the everyday minutiae of a relationship.”

“A thousand papercuts.”

She nods. “Exactly. But,” I can see a smile form at the corners of her mouth, behind the rim of her mug, “it never happened. I mean, of course, there are arguments, but they’re pretty rare. We talk things through, together. We communicate openly and honestly. She’s always believed in me and I can’t imagine doing anything other than supporting her.”

Silence falls and I try to read my own handwriting. This is why Snapper suggested I use my smartphone. _[Ed. note: Yes, that’s why.]_

Lena allows me a few moments to try to find my place. When she sets her empty mug on the glass coffee table, the sound startles me into speaking. 

“Are you going to change your last name?” It isn’t a question I had written down, not a smudged line on the notepad, and it serves as yet another lesson.

She’s thoughtful for a moment before: “Was that a question you asked Kara?” and I realize my mistake. 

Foot, meet mouth. 

“No,” I admit quietly. 

When she falls silent, I expect a rebuke, well-deserved, about how far she's gone to repair the Luthor name, and beyond that, how she is more than her last name. 

As are we all. 

She just smiles and says, “That's a shame. Kara probably would have told you.” I try to apologize but she waves me off. She curls one leg underneath the other and resettles on the couch. 

I move on. “Kara mentioned that the paparazzi was difficult for you, surrounding your relationship.”

“You’re referring to the incident at DeMarco’s.”

“Can you explain?” 

“I grew up around the press, essentially,” she begins, “back when the Luthors were a popular story for their wealth and status. Lillian and Lionel weren’t what you would call true socialites, but there were galas and parties and fundraisers and other public events where they were expected to be seen. Lex and I would often attend. 

“I had my first interview in front of a camera when I was six and at least several each year after that. After I took over L-Corp,” _[Ed. note: L-Corp was previously known as LuthorCorp, when it was run by Lillian and Lex Luthor]_ “obviously the press interest intensified. Beyond the regular press conferences, I began to have a more steady stream of reporters following me. By the time Kara and I began dating, I was used to their presence and could usually give them the slip, especially if I’d recently held a presser.”

She shifts her position once more, stretching her legs out and crossing her ankles. “Once they started to suspect there was a potential love interest in my life, their focus changed from getting the inside scoop on the next L-Corp project to the chance for some juicy gossip. It brought around an entirely different breed of paparazzi and _this_ one I wasn’t prepared for.

“They were relentless. Wherever Kara and I went, there they were. Even when we tried to stay under their radar, taking sometimes fairly ridiculous measures, they found us. After about a month of it, I’d had enough.” 

She stands and takes her cup into the kitchen to add more hot water. “We went to dinner at DeMarco’s for our one-month anniversary.”

She rejoins me on the sofa, both hands grasping the mug. “DeMarco’s, if you recall, is popular for its atmosphere. The lighting is low, only the front side of the building has windows, there’s a small fireplace in the back with overstuffed chairs, a live band plays at any given hour, and the largest party to a table is a group of four. So we felt safe, situated near the back of the restaurant. We were enjoying our meal and the band - it was soft classical, I remember.

“A man entered the restaurant and claimed he was meeting up with his friends but had been running a little behind. He walked past a number of tables until he neared ours. There was a group of three just behind Kara and he grabbed their one open chair and sat down. In the moment it took the people at the table to realize they had no idea who this guy was, he turned around, pulled out a small digital camera, and took eight photos.”

She takes a long sip of her tea. “I don’t regret my actions,” she says. “As soon as I got to my feet, he was trying to run away. I reached him in three steps, pulled the camera out of his hands, popped open the side compartment, ejected the SD card and snapped it in half. For good measure, I walked over and threw the pieces into the fireplace.

“He started yelling about how he was going to sue me, shouting for the manager to call the police, all manner of things. I told him I was just trying to enjoy a romantic dinner with my girlfriend and if he wouldn’t have intruded, he’d still have his memory card. He snatched his camera back, which, honestly, I wasn’t going to keep, but then he made a move as though he was going to grab me.”

She chuckles at whatever look I have on my face. “Mmhmm. Kara stopped him. She stepped between us and told him to back off, that she was already going to file a report with Catco and she could make sure he’d never get another job in National City or anywhere in northern California, but if he laid a hand on me, she’d let Cat Grant take care of his career.” She sighs, happily it seems, into her mug. “He turned around and walked out. The manager apologized for the interruption and we finished our dinner.”

“The next day, an ‘anonymous tip’ reported to the Enquirer that you and Kara were dating.”

“Yes. But there was no photographic evidence. It remained a rumor in the tabloids until we decided to announce our relationship a few months later, on our own terms.”

I’ve finished my tea and I sense that Lena’s willingness to share is perhaps nearing an end. Or perhaps it’s just that, once I leave, Kara will be here in ten minutes flat.

I shift my pen and ask the last question. “When did you first know you loved her?” 

Lena smiles indulgently and rests her chin in her hand for a moment. “I didn't know. Not for a long time.” Her smile doesn't fade but she blinks a few times. “Growing up, my experiences with love weren't exactly warm family hugs and high school kisses under the bleachers. I dated in college, but it was more like a mutually-beneficial business partnership than a true relationship.”

I nod, but don't interrupt. While Lena has indeed become a friend to me in the past few years, I have learned that she opens up only rarely, and I am gratified by the responses she's given. 

“When Kara and I first met, she was this tagalong for Clark Kent and then a new reporter, so it took a while before I realized she was also a friend. She supported me in a way I'd never seen before. And when we started dating, this woman who'd easily become my best friend managed to be an even bigger presence in my life and held a stronger belief in me than I had in myself.”

She shakes her head and falls silent and I'm afraid the moment is lost. But then: “We’d been dating for a little over five months when Kara first told me that she loved me. That she was in love with me. She rambled about all the things she loved about me, but insisted I didn't have to say it back, and, as if to reassure me, she listed the different ways I showed that I cared for her without ever speaking the words.”

I don't know what to say to that. 

Seeing something in my expression, apparently, she laughs softly. “Was that sappy enough for you?”

“You don't have a specific moment?” I press, since she's still open to speaking. 

“The moment we met. I've always loved her.”

\----

And so, dear reader, if you’ve made it this far, I attribute that entirely to the remarkable women I interviewed as opposed to any talent in my writing, but I thank you nonetheless. 

I would like to take a moment to wish my good friends the most heartfelt congratulations and best wishes on their marriage. I am honored to be invited to attend and even moreso to be asked to photograph the event, to capture the beautiful ceremony and preserve on film the joy and love of the day.

By the time you read this, the ceremony will be long over and they will be on their way to their honeymoon, the destination of which I can only guess, and you’ll find me once more where I belong.

Behind a camera.


End file.
